


integral

by timbreheart



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: A little angsty accidentally?, Fluff, Gen, Secret Samol 2018, Sokrates-Focused, Whoops about that!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-18 00:44:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17571056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timbreheart/pseuds/timbreheart
Summary: sokrates teaches some of their crew-mates about some apostolosian culture





	integral

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Orcagami](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orcagami/gifts).



> this was fun! hope everyone is enjoying secret samol :3 hope you enjoy it! <3

Sokrates likes Addax well enough.

Honestly, he sort of reminds them of their siblings. He’s got the same composure, serious and acting tougher than they suspect he really is, and eyes Sokrates with the same suspicion.

That look amplifies tenfold when Sokrates strides into the hangar that holds Peace as if he belongs there and another ten when they greet him with a wave, their literally and figuratively sharp smile, and two coffees.

“Sokrates,” Addax greets politely and eyes the coffees in Sokrates’ hands. “What’s that for?”

“What’s it look like?” Sokrates faux-searches around the room. “I don’t see anybody else in here.” They shove the drink in Addax’s face. “You seem like a black coffee kinda guy. Am I right?”

“Yeah,” he says, and doesn’t take it. Sokrates waves it in front of his eyes a little bit.

“Come on, man, I’m starting to feel like you just hate Apostolosians!”

He squints. “Would you blame me?”

“I mean, _yeah_ , dude, I’m giving you a coffee, not a vial of poison. Look, we can switch if you want if you’re so worried about it being contaminated, but mine is like, 99% sugar.”

Addax sighs. “I’m not that paranoid,” he tells them, but Sokrates watches his eyes waver as he takes it. “And I don’t hate Apostolosians. I’m cautious, not an asshole.”

“So you only hate me, is what I’m hearing.”

“That is _not_ what I said at _all-_ ”

Sokrates waves their hand like they’re waving Addax’s words away. “I’m kidding! You’re always so serious, lighten up a bit.”

“You’re so naive, Sokrates,” Addax says, shaking his head. Man, he really _is_ like Sokrates’ siblings.

“What did I _just_ say!”

“A couple of coffees won’t solve everything.”

“I know they won’t, when did I say they would? I get it, you don’t trust me, I don’t blame you. The prince of the enemy people isn’t exactly a trustworthy source, I get it! But I’m not going to betray you with a coffee. I think you’re the naive one here, honestly.”

Addax considers this with more grace than Sokrates expected and nods agreeably, taking a satisfied sip. “I’m not exactly doing anything interesting right now,” he explains, glancing back at Peace. “Just doing check-ups, running repairs, the works.”

Sokrates waves his hand again in that same way and Addax rolls his eyes. “I don’t really care if it’s interesting. Can’t I hang with a buddy?”

“You could certainly try.”

“What is _that_ supposed to mean?”  
“Here,” Addax hands Sokrates a wrench. “There’s some tough to reach spots that Jace usually helps me with but, since you’re here…”

Sokrates makes a fake dramatic gasp. “Abusing our newfound friendship already! I expected better of you, Candidate!”

Addax quirks a smile. “See, Sokrates, you _are_ the naive one. Let’s get to work.”

* * *

“There’s a saying in Apostolos that’s like- wait, scratch that, it doesn’t translate well, but basically it means don’t overwork yourself, idiot.”

Orth laughs, startled. “Don’t worry about me, Sokrates. I’m the captain, it’s my duty to do whatever I can.”

“I mean, yeah, but not so much that you never sleep or eat or do anything other than work.” They pout. “C’ _mon_ , trust my Apostolosian roots! Or, wait, Apostolos is the enemy, so don’t do that, but the sentiment remains!”

“Huh,” Orth says. “You know, I’ve just realized, I don’t know any Apostolosian.”

“Well, duh, you’re Oricon. Why would you know Apostolosian?”

“I try to know a few phrases to get by in every common language,” Orth declares proudly. “Space is very big, you know, there’s lots of people. I don’t know if its just because I never got around to it, or if there was nobody to teach me, but I don’t even know how to say _hello_ in Apostolosian.”

“Hm,” Sokrates muses. “Guess who’s a native Apostolosian speaker and is standing right in front of you?” They don’t wait for Orth’s answer. “Me! I am!”

Orth blinks, as if that hadn’t even occurred to him, which is surprising- Sokrates honestly figured that whole tangent was just a ploy to get Sokrates to offer to teach him.

They’re on board either way, of course. This is one thing that nobody else on this mission can one-up them on. Nobody knows Apostolos, the good and the bad, as intimately as Sokrates does. This is _useful._ This is _exciting._

And they know Orth will probably fuck up the pronunciation a lot, and they can’t wait to laugh at him for it.

“That’s very kind of you to offer, that could be very helpful, I think,” Orth says brightly. “Of course, translators exist and everything, but I figure it’s always easier to connect when you’re _really_ speaking the same language, instead of a computer altering it in your ear.”

“That makes sense,” Sokrates nods sagely. “But you don’t get to learn shit from me right now. You have to _chill_. Nobody’s gonna die ‘cause you took a nap, Orth.”

Orth’s smile is bright. “Of course. I’ll take your advice, Sokrates.”

“Finally _somebody_ will. Oh, here’s your first word, _ύπνος_. Sleep.”

“Υπνος,” Orth repeats, a little awkwardly, but well enough. “Υπνος. Thank you, Sokrates.”

“Psh, it’s just one word. Go relax already!”

Orth nods and leaves and Sokrates feels stupid and giddy inside as he does.

* * *

“That looks like boring garbage.”

Natalya laughs. “It’s kind of boring garbage, honestly. Just a bunch of data and statistics about the ship. None of it is probably that important, but I have to sift through it all anyway.”

Sokrates sticks out their tongue. “Boring! I came here to not be bored, but you’re boring.”

“I don’t know why you would come to _me_ , of all people, to not be bored.”

“I think everyone else is sick of me.”

“Ah, so I’m your last resort?”

“Exactly.”  
She glances back at them with a shake of her head. “Not exactly flattering, Sokrates.”

They roll their eyes. “Whatever. Can I play with your hair?”

“Play with my- you sound like you’re a middle schooler.”

“ _And_? You’re the only person with long enough hair to braid.”

Natalya doesn’t move her eyes from the screen, but Sokrates can just _feel_ her roll her eyes. “On the entire ship? I doubt that.”

“The only one that I thought might let me.”

Natalya sighs as she continues to type. “Fine. Are you going to do it like yours?”

“Oh, no, mine is- uh, special? Hair’s like, super important in Apostolos. I can’t do yours like mine.”

“Hmph. What gives you the right to have special hair?”

“Well, first of all, I’m _actually_ Apostolosian and you’re not, and also a bunch of other reasons.” Like them being a scion. That’s a big one, probably.

She chuckles. “That’s true. You should teach me all the different ways to do it sometime.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah! Sure! How many people are in your family?”

Natalya actually stops typing for half a second, caught off guard. “Four, including me,” she answers easily.

“Four,” Sokrates repeats, humming. “Are you the younger or older child?”

“Older. Does this have to do with the hair?”

“No, I’m just suddenly interested in your family life. Yes it has to do with the hair. I can’t give you the _wrong_ hairstyle. You’re not like, a noble or anything, are you?”

“We don’t really have nobles.”

“Well, yeah, but just making sure. Come sit on the floor, I can’t do it standing up like this.”

“I have to do my work, Sokrates.”

Sokrates rolls their eyes, even though Natalya can’t see it. “So bring it to the floor!”

She sighs, but it’s a good-natured sigh, and she carefully picks up her monitor, keyboard, and all its cables and sets it gently on the floor, sitting cross-legged in front of it. “I’m sacrificing so much for you right now, Sokrates.”

“Oh, get over it. It’s just the floor,” they chide, plopping down onto the floor behind Natalya. “You’ve probably worked in worse places.”

“True,” Natalya relents, and they lapse into silence as Sokrates carefully separates her hair into parts and begins twisting it into something pretty.

After a few moments, Sokrates says, without even meaning to, “I used to braid my little sibling’s hair a lot.”

There’s a beat of silence.

“They always said I did it worse than my older sibling could.”

“You miss them, huh?”

Sokrates sighs. “Yeah. I shouldn’t. But I do.”

Natalya hums. “I don’t know why everyone else doesn’t trust you.”

“What?”

“You’re probably the most genuine person on this whole mission. Hell of a lot more genuine than me. And most useful, too. I just sit here running diagnostics and digging through data, but you’re the reason we’re here at all.”

“Yeah!” Sokrates agrees, suddenly righteous. “Like, why would I tell everybody about the superweapon then turn around and go back to Apostolos when I could’ve just, you know, _not_ told anybody about it? Then you guys wouldn’t have even had a chance!”

She laughs. “I like to think we would’ve at least had a _chance_ , but you’re probably right. This isn’t for nothing, Sokrates. We’re going to do this.”

Sokrates weaves the last bit of her hair together. “Hell yeah we are.”

* * *

 

What feels like an eternity later, when Integrity pulses through them like veins, and Apostolos is not only theirs to take but theirs to change, they can’t fully bring themself to crush it all underfoot. A better life can only be built from the Empire’s ashes, and they _want_ that, for themselves, for their family, for every person in the sector. They need to destroy Apostolos, everything it ever was.

They call themself Apokine anyway. Wears the traditional clothing anyway. Braids their hair, anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> (yeah that's just the greek word for sleep, lol)


End file.
